in my dream a man lay upon his death bed.
in dusty shafts of sunlight strangers sat, keeping watch in silence with their closed eyes. one small fold in midst of the stiff blue blanket rose
and fell so
subtly i could not tell if
it were true or
only me. i breathed
with him barely
sipping the pale air holding those
long, low gaps
til my body gasped to remember that i belonged to the living.
my mother opened a dark cupboard where woollen pullovers lay neatly folded.
may as well get a head start on this!